beingdesh

Tag: School

  • Our obsession with the 100th 100

    कब बनेगा शतको का शतक?
    (आज तक, 193 times since Feb’11)

    Ever since end of February 2011 all of us have been waiting for Sachin to score that century. Personally I have been counting every run of his backwards from 100, from the 16 left against Pakistan at Mohali to the 27 left at Melbourne the wait for that perfect figure still continues. Throughout this time I have been through a multitude of feelings. I have been logical and appreciative of opposing bowlers at times; erratic and abusive to the bowlers, Dhoni and even Sharad Pawar at times; emotional and thinking about the century too much; nostalgic and thinking about classics from Perth to Chennai to Sharjah; a fool to neglect all the other action around him; a connoisseur of the game and loving every moment of the awesome test cricket which has been on offer this year and above all obsessed with him reaching his 100.

    Reaching 100 is not just a milestone for Sachin, it just a manifestation of all our childhood dreams. We have been always chasing that 100, that perfect number. Ask a Father back in 90s and he would have told My kid should get 100 in Maths, बाकी अंग्रेजी वगेरा के नंबर कौन देखता है.

    So the child would run behind that target, he would get a 25 on 25 in unit test, but that is like getting a 100 in Bangladesh or in a Ranji match. One needs a 100 in exams, so he would then get it in Half Yearly, only to hear Son, its still not the finals.

    That kid would burn the midnight oil to get that 100, he would reach 97, 98, 99, but it was always the 100 which mattered. All along this time there were classmates doing brilliantly in multiple areas (like Kallis: scoring 100s and taking wickets), becoming excellent orators (like Dravid, Sanga, scoring 100s and winning hearts with their speeches), being naughty (like Ponting, scoring 100 and being that arrogant naughty brat in the class), becoming school leaders like Head Boy/Girl (like Kumble taking wickets and showing his leadership mettle both on and off the field, or like Ganguly, always leading from the front and scoring 100s too) and going around with pretty girls (like Warnie, one of the best bowler ever, and pretty smooth with girls too :)).

    But there was always that silent humble chap in the class trying to score a century in Maths (or maybe Physics, Chemistry, Biology, our quest for excellence never goes beyond the Science subjects). The entire set of teachers, kids, and parents just looked up to him to score that 100, and he was just expected to do that, where as the rest of the class was doing many other things. Many kids and parent idolized him as the perfect student, as millions around the world have idolized Sachin now, as the perfect student of the game.

    The simple issue here is, for us Sachin is they way we have lived our life for over 22 years, beyond his 100th 100 there is nothing else left for us to chase. Some might say that we have reduced Sachin to a mere number, but its just the way we have been with him, we have just wanted him to score hundreds, hundred after hundred, without thinking about simple things like India’s victory, Sachin’s happiness, and just Cricket.

    For me the attempt to give him Bharat Ratna is nothing different from the Scholar Blazers/Markers Cup/CBSE Merit Certificate (just stamping our approval of his perfection)

    I wish everyone leaves Sachin to his own, like Dravid leaving the cricket ball. The wicketkeeper (read the ghost of that 100th 100) would be there to catch him, but Sachin for sure knows his way around.

    Even the perfect student wanted to participate in debates, become the School Captain or talk to girl sometimes ;).

    Featured Image by Vikas via WikiMedia Commons

  • Remembering Her

    As everyday I reached the school gates on a cold winter morning in Korba. The rush of students, tens of buses (the one which stood out was always the Coal India township buses, white covered with layers of Coal dust), kids with their hair well-oiled, the sight of green blazers all over (a few scholar ones-red and blue), and the pink lady-birds and the black MTBs which had become so popular on those days welcomed me. As always Dutta bhaiya was on top of his voice, screaming on the gates and always giving that awesome smile when I entered the gates. That day I had not entered, I was standing at the front-gate with few of my friends, a green FIAT halted near the gates. Her green fiat is something which I distinctly remember, just like her red-shawl (which wa snever to be missed during winters), her commanding voice, and her accent which was very unique and just stays on with us. She got off the car and said, “Deshpande, clean your blazer properly before you come”, and she walked away.

    I was a four year old when I appeared for an admissions interview to DPS Korba, I vaguely remember a young handsome Thapar Sir (very little imagery, but I think its mostly constructed from the conversations I had with her) accompanied by her. She was the in-charge of junior sections and the interview was held at the Pragati Nagar campus. I was asked about my favorite cartoon character and I had danced all over the place like HE-MAN, and the panel had a nice laugh. I was given chocolates and an entry to DPS Korba- 8810 it was.

    I met her last in 2004, she had lost a lot of weight, well that was the only thing which had changed, she looked the same, her eyes were still as expressive as always. She had made coffee and as she was talking about her new home at SADA and the change from the Yamuna Vihar home she suddenly mentioned, “Nowadays you don’t watch He-Man, they don’t show it anymore I believe?”.

    She was like that, she would recall the tiniest bits which would have happened, and bring them back to conversations. It was strange that despite being for my entire life in school I never got a chance to be her student. But I was fortunate it happened during my last year in school, Class 12th, it was just a coincidence that it was her last year too at the school. And as expected she was awesome, it was fun attending her classes, her voice modulations as she went through the English Literature stuff was brilliant, I vaguely remember the details, but it was a great feeling.

    And in that year came a forgettable day, where for the first time she became so angry at us (I don’t remember what had happened), she made the entire section stand and then she went and started punching back, this was not like her, she had become very angry with the behavior of few students in my section. Then as she finished the first column of benches, she came to one student and then she stopped (I believe it was Shameek or Swapnil) and then she cried. She then apologized for her actions, but conveyed how bad she had felt about the entire thing. Our entire class was not able to face her directly for a few days to come after that.

    She was strict, but she was much more loving than that. Her touch was extremely special, she knew everyone’s family in and out. Once in a while she would catch hold of me and ask me about home, about how my sis is finding the place, and am I enjoying my studies. She kept a tab on my studies as well that of 1000s others. I remember in Junior school Shameek used to be her favorite (or at-least that is what we presumed) and everyone wanted to be good in front of her. But she was never biased, she loved every student and really cared for us through all those years.

    Also few things which I have memories of are that of her speech during Annual Function (she used to present an update of Junior school), she leading the assembly in case B Singh sir was absent (or later our other Principals), her screaming out for Kalpana Didi and Dashrath Bhaiya (that was actually funny, both of them were always scared when they reached her), her annual trip to U.S. and stories from her trip during assembly (I remember her talking about Yellow Stone national park, and Disneyland).

    The last I had a really long conversation with her was in Dec, 2001. I was along with my family on a trip to South India and met her on Raipur airport. She was on the same flight with us to Mumbai (from where she was supposed to catch an international flight to Qatar maybe) and I took a seat next to her. This was my first flight ever, the first time I ever sat in a plane and I was lucky enough to experience my first flight with her. She talked about her trips, the years passed by in Korba, about her family in U.S. and a lot of other things. Even that was winter and she was wrapped in a red shawl.

    I sometimes feel that over the years I should have tried to connect back with her, I think I called her once in 2006, to tell her my engineering was done and I would be joining job at Bangalore. Be it the meetups with school friends, or teacher’s day or sometimes just like that, I would remember her and think that I should contact her. But I didn’t do it for a few years, something which I would always regret.

    We would all remember her, always…